


Let Your Feelings Out

by lost_spook



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Meme, Prompt Fic, Support Groups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: Vila and Jenna find themselves trapped in an installation and, even worse, they’re got to be nice to each other…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the genremixer prompt: Jenna /& Vila - trapped together & group support & hugs, for Vilakins, in an LJ meme.

“And then,” said Vila with an authentic hitch in his voice, “on my tenth birth anniversary, that was when my Mum vanished. We never did work out what happened to her. It left me very – well, I don’t like to talk about it.” He buried his head in his hands and gave what sounded like a small sob. “I’m sorry – just thinking about it, it’s bringing it all back. Gave me nightmares for years.”

Jenna couldn’t decide whether she wanted to fling something at Vila for having to sit through the long tale of his tragic youth that was apparently not even half over yet, or whether she ought to thank him for the performance. It had, after all, spared her from saying very much as yet.

“Well, Teegu, that’s very moving,” said the leader of the Pyasan Reformed Dissident Support Group. “Thank you for being so open with us all. But how about Gretan here?”

Jenna froze. “Not much to tell.”

The rest of the group all immediately looked about as reproachful as Blake did every time Avon didn’t want to go on a mission.

“I think my problems were mostly down to an incident that happened when I was fifteen,” she said, because her line of work necessitated making up a few cover stories on the spot, too. Anyway, she wasn’t about to be outdone by Vila. “So, when I say there’s not much to tell, I mean it was brief, but it had a lasting impact. I fell in with the wrong crowd – that was what started it all. An older boy, with big ideas about resisting the Federation.” She gave a shrug. “I’m sure I don’t need to spell it out for you.”

The leader gave her a kind smile that made her palm itch. “Oh, Gretan, but I think you should. You want to, don’t you? We’re all friends here.”

“I wrote,” said Jenna and hesitated there, her voice as artistically unsteady as Vila’s has been. “I wrote – no, I can’t say it!”

“Go on, Gretan,” said Vila. “I bet you can.”

Jenna swallowed. “I wrote _pamphlets_ ,” she said, in a whispered tone of horror. “All the rebel propaganda, dangerous disestablishment ideas – all of it. I can hardly bear to remember.”

“Five and half out of ten,” murmured Vila in her ear, as she finished. “And that’s being generous.”

The leader fixed Vila with a stare. “Would you like to share with the group, Teegu?”

“Just giving Gretan some moral support,” said Vila. “She’s much more nervous about this than she looks, you know. She needs all the help I can give her.”

Jenna tried to remember to smile and not glare. Why, she thought, couldn’t Cally and Gan have got this mission? They might even have liked it. They had come to Pyasa in search of a rebel called Jarrib, who was supposedly locked up in this installation, but as yet they’d found no sign of him and now they’d been landed in this group. It had been a choice between that and suppressant drugs. Vila had suggested going for the drugs, but Jenna had overruled him. She was beginning to regret it, all the more so because Vila now seemed to be enjoying it.

“We’re nearly out of time, I see,” the leader continued, with a glance over at the timepiece on the wall. “So, please, as usual, before we leave, I want you to turn and give your partner a hug. Reassure them. Tell them they’re worth so much more than false rebel doctrine would have them believe. The Federation values each and every one of us.”

Jenna put up her hand. “Is this mandatory?”

It earned her another collectively reproachful look.

“Oh, come on, J – er, Gretan,” said Vila with a grin. “Can’t be that bad, can it?”

Jenna put her arms around him gingerly. “Take any advantage of the situation and I will _kill_ you later, I promise.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Vila, hugging her for what Jenna felt was far longer than necessary, but when she risked a glance about, the rest of the group were still locked in equally solid embraces. Jenna went so far as to give Vila a quick squeeze in response. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever done, she reflected. It wasn’t half as bad as listening to everyone else’s unfortunate histories. That it might even have been quite nice in some ways was of course, not true; admitting that would be a step too far.

The leader gave a cough that was evidently the signal for all the huggers to disembrace, and then announced that the session was finally over. “And next week,” he announced, as one sharing a special treat to come, “we shall be engaging in some team bonding exercises.”

“If we don’t get out of here,” said Jenna, “I’m going to have to kill someone.”

Vila raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought it was all right. I’ve half a mind to come back anyway. I want to see if they’ll swallow the next bit of my autobiography…”


End file.
